𓂃 ˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀𓂃𓈒 ᴀ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʟɪꜰᴇᴛɪᴍᴇ 𓈒𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖

🦇 𝗛𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗼 𝗪𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗠𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗚𝗿𝗮𝘆𝘀𝗼𝗻 | A DETAILED GUIDE

regarding the project: whether or not you have read the comics, this is a straightforward tutorial for anyone wishing to write mark grayson more precisely. brief notes. genuine emotional breakdowns. no lecturing. no gatekeeping. just a straightforward, honest look at what really shapes him and how to use the source material to portray him accurately.

a/n: i posted the poll about making a how to write mark grayson guide today, but honestly... i’ve been working on this for a while, ever since i posted some fics. it started because a few people mentioned that some of my mark breakdowns helped them with their fics, and i thought it might be nice to have something more detailed all in one place. so even though the poll went up today, this guide’s been in the works for a bit hehe i really hope it helps anyone who wants to write mark more true to the comics! thanks for reading!

in the invincible comics, if there’s one thing about mark grayson, it’s that he’s stubborn as hell when it comes to his ideals. like, painfully stubborn. there are so many times where he just flat-out refuses to back down from what he believes is right, even when everyone around him is telling him he’s being naive or that it’s gonna blow up in his face. and since the show hasn’t gotten to a lot of these moments yet, let’s talk about some comic only examples that really show just how stubborn (and sometimes reckless) mark’s idealism can be.

okay, so first off: the whole fight between mark and cecil stedman (the government guy who runs the GDA)? it's turning point of mark's view of the GDA and what it truly means to be a hero. it also begins to shed him of his naivety.

basically, mark finds out cecil’s been doing all this shady stuff behind the scenes like building an army of zombie cyborg supersoldiers (the reanimen), working with literal evil clones, just... real villain behavior. cecil’s whole mindset is like, “yeah it’s awful, but it’s for the greater good.” and mark? hates it. the second he finds out, he’s ready to fight.

and cecil’s response? he doesn’t even try to explain himself anymore. he just sends a whole damn army of reanimen after mark to try and beat him into submission. it’s brutal. mark gets swarmed, blasted with this crazy sonic device they rigged up, he’s getting absolutely trashed, and he still refuses to back down. he barely escapes, pulls some of the guardians together, and marches right back to finish what he started.

they trash the reanimen, it’s a mess, and at the end, cecil’s standing there like, “i did what had to be done.” and mark, bleeding and furious, basically tells him to shove it. he straight-up quits. no backup, no government support, nothing just him deciding he’d rather be completely alone than be part of something he thinks is wrong. like... that’s mark grayson. stubborn to the end.

Universa Arc.

so, universa’s this alien warrior who shows up on earth basically trying to steal the planet’s energy to save her dying world. mark and eve fight her, they win, she gets thrown in prison. standard superhero stuff, right? most heroes would’ve been like “cool, problem solved” and moved on. but not mark. mark can’t let it go.

he actually goes out of his way to visit her in jail. just to talk. and when he finds out she was only doing all of this because her people were desperate not because she was evil or power-hungry or anything he immediately goes into “let’s fix this” mode. like, no hesitation.

and he doesn't just feel bad about it and leave, no, mark convinces the warden to let her go, helps her find a way to safely get the energy she needs without hurting anyone, and sends her back home to save her people. universa is so stunned she literally promises to repay him someday.

it’s honestly one of the purest things he ever does. he refuses to just see her as “the bad guy.” he sees the person underneath. he believes that people, even enemies, can do the right thing if you give them a real chance.

was it a little naive? yeah, kinda. but it worked because mark’s the kind of guy who means it. like, really means it. and people can tell. that’s why his idealism hits so hard. he never gives up on the idea that there’s a better way.

Oliver and Allen VS Mark

okay, so one of the most heartbreaking examples of mark’s idealism clashing with the people he loves is the whole scourge virus situation.

basically, allen the alien and mark’s half-brother oliver come up with this plan to release a modified version of the scourge virua, the same virus that almost wiped out the viltrumites, to finish the job for good.

and mark? mark is horrified.

he’s not just worried about the viltrumites (even though yeah, some of them deserve it). he’s thinking about the humans. he’s thinking about the risk. he’s thinking about how unleashing something that dangerous ever is just crossing a moral line you can’t uncross.

so he tries to stop them. and it turns into a full-on fight. it’s messy, it’s emotional, and somewhere in the middle of it all, oliver, desperate and panicking, accidentally infects mark with the virus. mark almost dies.

and even after all that, after being betrayed and almost killed by his own brother, mark doesn’t blow up in rage. he’s just heartbroken. because for mark, the real tragedy isn’t what happened to him. it’s that people he loves were willing to risk something so horrific, to cross a line he’s spent his whole life refusing to cross.

like... he would literally rather fight his own family, risk dying, than give up on his ideals. he genuinely believes that the ends don’t justify the means, even if it costs him everything.

The Final Battle with Thragg and Mark's Monologue

by the end of the comic, we really get the full picture of who mark grayson has become. all that stubborn idealism, independence, and moral conviction he’s built up over the years? it all comes to a head during his final battle with thragg.

and the thing is...mark’s not just throwing punches. he’s saying everything he’s believed, everything that’s come to define him. he straight-up rejects thragg’s whole worldview, the viltrumite mindset of "strength over everything." and while they’re fighting, mark gives this monologue (mid-fight, because of course he does) that honestly just hits you right in the chest:

“you see us as people living only for conquest, measured only by the size of our empire. no room for peace. no room for compassion. no room for love… the truth is you were holding us back… we can be a force for good. we can spread peace throughout the galaxy. we can love and be loved. we can be happy.”

like... that’s so mark. even after everything he’s been through, even while he's locked in a life or death fight, he still believes people, even viltrumites, can be better.

and it’s not just talk either. this is what mark actually wants. he’s trying to turn an empire built on war into something good. it’s insanely idealistic, yeah, but it’s 100% real. and what’s really cool is that he’s doing it his way. not the way any viltrumite leader before him would’ve done it. this is mark’s independence on full blast, he's building something new, completely breaking away from the old viltrumite pride and brutality.

thragg, of course, can’t even wrap his head around it. and mark beats him, physically and symbolically. it’s basically proving that compassion and strength aren’t opposites. mark’s showing that being a good person doesn’t mean being weak, and being cruel doesn’t mean you’re strong.

if you’re writing fanfiction that covers late-series or post-series mark, this moment is a huge thing to keep in mind. by now, he’s not the uncertain teenager anymore. he knows who he is and what he stands for. but he hasn’t lost that earnestness, that moral fire he had as a kid, if anything, it’s gotten stronger and sharper.

mark taking down thragg with conviction shows the kind of leader he’s grown into. he’s not just reacting to problems anymore; he’s actively trying to shape a better future. people look up to him, even people who used to be enemies, because of the integrity he shows. not because they’re scared of him, but because they respect him.

another super important thing: even after all that, mark doesn’t turn into some dictator. like, it would’ve been so easy for him to say, “i’m the strongest, i’m in charge now.” but he doesn’t. he stays focused on making things better. he pushes for the viltrumites to actually protect earth, to integrate, to live differently. he keeps that humility.

even at the height of his power, he’s worrying about being a good husband, a good dad (the finale shows his future family life), and living up to his ideals. he never stops checking himself because deep down, he’s terrified of turning into what his dad was.

so if you’re writing a future!mark or an alt ending where he’s leading the viltrumites or running with huge responsibilities, always keep that in mind: no matter how powerful he is, he’s still that same kid who’s scared of losing his humanity and who’ll do anything to protect it.

Now that we understand the Idealism surrounding his character, let's discuss how to actually write him.

okay so if you’re writing mark grayson in fanfics, one of the biggest things you have to remember is that he is not a soft boy. he is not a “yes man.” he is not some passive sunshine character who just agrees with whatever the hell his friends or love interest says because he’s so sweet and loyal. that’s just not who he is.

mark is kind. he’s empathetic. he loves deeply. but he is stubborn as hell when it comes to his beliefs. like painfully, frustratingly stubborn.

he doesn’t just roll over when someone he loves disagrees with him. he doesn’t abandon his moral compass to avoid conflict. if anything, he’ll fight even harder against the people he cares about because he believes so strongly in what he thinks is right.

this is the guy who:

tells cecil (the literal head of the GDA, who helped him post omni-man) to fuck off to his face because cecil’s methods are too corrupt.

tries to rehabilitate a literal eco-terrorist (dinosaurus) because he genuinely thinks they could do good together, even when everyone else calls him insane.

punches his own little brother and one of his best friends (oliver and allen) in the face when they want to use the scourge virus to wipe out the viltrumites, because he refuses to believe genocide is ever the answer even when it would save billions of lives.

goes into exile on an alien planet with his family instead of accepting a “peaceful” dictatorship run by robot, because he would rather lose everything than live under tyranny. then, he eventually comes back and kills robot himself.

like... mark is kind, yes. but he’s not compliant. he’s not someone you can easily sway just because you’re close to him. he doesn’t make decisions based on what’s easiest or what’ll hurt the fewest feelings. he makes decisions based on what he believes is right, even if it blows up his relationships. even if it hurts people he loves. even if it isolates him.

so when you’re writing him:

let him argue. let him push back when something doesn’t sit right with him.

let him get angry when his beliefs are challenged. he’s emotional. he’s reactive.

let him stand his ground even when it costs him.

let him care so deeply it hurts him sometimes.

don’t be afraid to show that he’s wrong, too because sometimes his stubbornness backfires horribly (like trusting dinosaurus). but even when he’s wrong, he’s never malicious. he’s never apathetic. he’s trying.

he’s not cold. he’s not cruel. but he’s also not a people-pleaser. he’s willing to lose friends, mentors, allies, and even his home if it means doing what he feels is right.

common mischaracterizations you should avoid:

making him a soft, easily manipulated boyfriend who never questions anything.

making him prioritize romance over his core values without struggle. (like, if you have him abandoning his morals instantly for love, it feels wrong. he might bend, but it would mess him up inside and cause conflict.) DO NOT CONFLATE HIS MORALS WITH WHAT THE GDA BELIEVES!!

making him unrealistically calm and detached. mark feels everything with his whole chest. when he’s hurt or angry, it shows. he doesn't bottle it up perfectly.

writing him like he's just “along for the ride” emotionally. mark makes decisions. he moves the plot. even when he’s wrong, he’s active, not passive.

writing mark grayson right means letting him be a mess sometimes. it means letting him get bloodied up in fights he probably can’t win. it means letting him make terrible mistakes because he believed too hard in someone. it means letting him love people and lose people and still keep standing, still keep hoping. still keep fighting for the better world he dreams of.

because that's what makes him invincible. not the powers. not the strength. it’s the fact that even when everything in him is broken, his body, his mind, etc, he keeps fighting for what he believes in.

bad vs good characterization examples for mark

example 1

bad: "are you sure about this?" he asked, voice trembling. "i mean... if you think it's right, i'll go along with it. i trust you." (he says nothing else. he just follows along. no hesitation, no conflict, just blind loyalty.)

why it's wrong: this makes him sound like a passive puppy who just goes wherever the story/author pushes him. mark is loyal, yeah, but he’s not a yes man. if something feels wrong to him, he’s going to say something even if it starts a fight.

good: "i don’t know if i can go with you on this," mark said, frowning. "i get why you want to do it... i do. but it doesn’t sit right with me. it’s not who i want to be." his hands flexed at his sides, restless. "i’m not trying to fight you. i’m trying to make you understand." (there’s tension. there’s conflict. but the love is still there. he’s standing his ground because he cares.)

example 2

bad: mark nodded immediately. "you're right. i didn’t even think about it that way. i’ll change everything i'm doing for you." (he has no independent thought. he never questions anything. he changes core beliefs instantly.)

why it's wrong: mark can compromise sometimes, but it’s never instant. if he changes his mind, it comes from hard conversations, real consequences, or deep emotional shifts. he doesn’t just flip a switch because someone asked him nicely.

good: "maybe you’re right," mark muttered after a long beat, his jaw locked. "but you can’t expect me to throw away everything i believe just because it's easier." he exhaled, frustrated, running a hand through his ebony hair. "i need to think. i can't just... pretend this doesn't matter."

key reminders when writing mark:

he’s stubborn. like cartoonishly stubborn. even when it’s inconvenient. even when it costs him everything.

he’s idealistic. he genuinely believes doing the right thing matters, even if nobody else believes it anymore.

he’s emotional. he feels everything with his whole chest. anger, sadness, guilt, hope, it’s never muted or put down for the sake of plot purposes.

he’s reactive. mark doesn’t always think things through. if he sees something he doesn't like or someone he loves in danger, he moves first, thinks later.

he’s not a people pleaser. even if he loves you, if you’re doing something he thinks is wrong, he’s gonna call you out. loudly.

he fights with people he loves. not because he loves them less but because he loves them too much to let them destroy themselves or cause harm to other people that causes conflict in what he believes in.

he’s not a soft boy. he’s kind. he’s empathetic. but he’s also willing to bloody his fists and risk his life for what he believes in.

he’s not passive. mark makes choices. even when they’re bad ones. he’s an active character who moves the plot forward.

he’s wrong sometimes. his idealism blinds him. he trusts the wrong people. he fucks up. and he owns it (eventually).

he doesn't believe violence is the first answer (especially at the end of the series). but when it’s necessary, he doesn’t hold back. if he’s in a fight, he’s there to win.

he can’t be guilt tripped into giving up his morals. you can hurt him. you can betray him. but you can’t make him become someone he’s not.

he keeps hoping. even after all the betrayal, death, loss, heartbreak he's gone through, he never fully lets go of hope.

NOTABLE MOMENTS TO HELP CHARACTERIZE HIM IN YOUR FIC

“DON’T EVER THREATEN MY FAMILY!!” – Issue #33.

this is mark at his absolute breaking point just pure protective rage, screaming at angstrom who just hurt his mom. it’s a simple line, but it hits because you can feel everything behind it. the second someone he loves is in danger, mark doesn’t hold back. he doesn’t care about looking heroic or calm, he just loses it. and that’s something to keep in mind if you’re writing him, when mark’s temper explodes, it’s not about his pride or getting even. it’s about protecting the people he loves. period. he’s like a lion protecting his cubs its all instinct, no hesitation. so if you’re ever writing a scene where a villain’s threatening someone close to him, picture mark practically shaking, shouting until his voice breaks, just burning with that raw, desperate anger. it’s not polished or composed, it’s messy, it’s emotional, and it’s all love underneath it.

“THIS IS BEING A SUPER-HERO? I'M JUST STOPPING CRAP FROM HAPPENING AT ANY GIVEN MOMENT. I'M NOT DOING ANYTHING REALLY WORTHWHILE… …AND WHEN I FAIL… MY GOD, I FAIL BIG. WE HAVE THE POWER TO CHANGE THE WORLD, EVE… …BUT INSTEAD THINGS JUST KEEP GETTING WORSE.” – Issue #81.

it’s not just some random thought he brushes off. you can tell it hits him. like... what if everything he’s been doing hasn’t actually changed anything? what if he’s just patching holes in something that’s already falling apart? it’s honestly a gut-punch moment because mark is usually so stubbornly hopeful. but even he isn’t immune to wondering if any of it’s enough. and it’s such an important part of who he is, he doesn’t just blindly believe everything’s fine. he feels it when it isn’t. he questions himself. he struggles with it. if you’re writing fanfic and you want to show a more introspective or vulnerable side of him, especially after something rough happens, this is the kind of feeling you want to tap into. not him giving up, but that raw, exhausted moment where he’s like, what’s the point if nothing ever really changes? it makes him feel real. because even with all the optimism and fight he’s got, sometimes the weight of it still catches up to him.

HOW TO WRITE HIS HUMOR/MORE LIGHT-HEARTED SIDE

mark isn’t all heavy drama and serious fights, he actually has a ton of light, funny moments, especially early on. like when he first starts getting his powers and his coworker asks him about his future, he just says

“finish high school, I guess.”

which is funny because he already knows he’s about to step into something way bigger.

there are little moments like that all over, times when he’s play fighting with william, or throwing out corny jokes, especially about stuff like science dog (his favorite comic, seance dog in the show). even though a lot of this guide focuses on the heavy, emotional stuff, it’s important not to forget these slice of life stuff

if you’re writing fanfics with him, adding in those little jokes or funny lines can really help keep mark in character. think about it like how spider-man cracks jokes during fights except mark’s version is a little less snarky and more dorky he jokes the most when he’s around people he’s comfortable with, and it’s not because he’s not taking things seriously it’s because that humor is just a part of who he is.

DISCLAIMER!

one of the biggest differences between comic mark and show mark is that comic mark is definitely rougher around the edges, especially early on. he’s not the super polished, always perfect hero type. in the early issues, mark can actually be kind of crude, he uses slurs (like the r-word) and makes some offhanded gay jokes, usually when he’s goofing around with william. it’s definitely surprising when you read it now, but it’s also important to understand that it’s part of his growth. it’s not written to make him look good, it’s showing that he’s a dumb teenage boy who hasn’t figured everything out yet. he says thoughtless, insensitive stuff because he’s young, immature, and still has a lot of learning to do.

and the comics let him grow.

later on, when william comes out to him, mark doesn’t just brush it off or make another dumb joke, he’s genuinely supportive. he accepts william without hesitation. and from that point on, you can see a clear shift, mark stops using slurs, stops making those kinds of jokes. it’s not a huge dramatic “lesson learned” moment, but the change is there. he matures. he gets it.

the show sort of skips over this whole messy, realistic part of his character arc. animated mark is a lot more careful and a little more "clean" from the start, he doesn’t really say anything offensive, and he’s framed as a lot more socially aware right out of the gate. which makes sense for a modern audience and a tv format, but it does smooth out some of the rough growth we see in comic mark.

comic mark’s early immaturity makes his later kindness and emotional intelligence feel earned. it’s not that he’s perfect, it’s that he chooses to grow, to be better, to really care about people in a way that goes beyond surface-level acceptance. that’s a huge part of what makes comic mark feel so real. he screws up, he says dumb stuff, but he listens, he learns, and he changes.

CONCLUSION AND FINAL NOTE!

at the end of the day, mark grayson isn’t about being perfect. he’s about trying. he’s stubborn as hell, emotional, sometimes reckless, and way more human than people give him credit for.

he holds onto what he believes even when everyone’s telling him to give up. he fights for the people he loves even when it costs him everything. he messes up (a lot), but he always, always tries to be better. that’s what makes him mark.

when you’re writing him, don’t be afraid to show all of it, the anger, the humor, the doubt, the stubborn hope that somehow refuses to die even when everything’s falling apart. he’s not supposed to be perfect or untouchable. he’s supposed to feel real.

sometimes he gets it wrong. sometimes he crashes and burns. but the point is, he keeps going. he cares even when it’s easier not to. and that’s why people love him.

i hope breaking all this down helps if you’re trying to write him, understand him better, or just see where he’s coming from. because when you really look at it, mark’s whole story isn’t about being the strongest guy in the room it’s about being the one who refuses to give up on people, even when it would be easier to stop caring.

thanks for reading! and honestly, if you ever feel stuck writing him, just go back to that core idea > he never stops trying. that’s who he is.

𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐂 | wk: 397

pairings. vamp!batfam x gn!batsib reader

warnings. these are just general ideas/hcs I had for the batfam, not a fic. death, murder, general batfam content no specific series or iteration.

What if…

• Bruce came from a long lineage of vampires, and the people who murdered his mother and father were vampire hunters.

• After his parent's murders he finds out from Alfred that he's a vampire, and that Alfred was also a vampire.

• Time skip to him adopting Dick

• Instead of Dick becoming orphaned and getting adopted by Bruce, he dies alongside his parents. Only to be brought back by Bruce biting his neck and turning him into a vampire.

• Insert conflict between Dick and Bruce about him only saving Dick and not his parents as well + possible survivors guilt; this leads to him going off to do his own thing after his days as Robin ( + him not wanting to be in Bruce’s shadow )

• Incomes Jason's tragic tale

• I think he’d be one of the few non-vampire Batfam members since he got brought back by the pits

• Alfred, Bruce, Dick, Tim, Damian, Cass, and Duke would all be vampires in this au. Steph, Barbara, Jason, and Reader would be some of the few humans they’d have around.

• Damian is half demon half vampire (insert -Damian- alpha/single/emo/half-demon/vampire/prince)

• Tim would come from a line of vampire hunters, getting turned into a vampire one night by accident and being taken in by Bruce (idk much about his lore & parents so let's just say that he ran away or they disowned him but couldn’t bring themselves to kill him) 

• I think Damian’s introduction would be the same

• Same with Cass but her parents would be vampires.

• I think Bruce would have a rule in place similar to the “No killing” rule, just that they can't drink human blood

• Reader is introduced to the Batfam by accidentally stumbling across it during a rainy night, stereotypically breaking into a “what seems to be abandoned mansion but is actually the home to a bunch of immortal vampires.”

• They couldn’t turn away a weak–half dead human, so they take them in and let them stay “temporarily”

• Obviously their stay was not temporary, over the few days that the storm rained over Gotham, Reader grew close to the members of the batfam.

• They all came to a unanimous agreement to keep them there, even if they had to hide their identities (both vampire and vigilante)

• Possible yan au / or something with obsessive themes

aaaaa sorry for this being short and booty, I wanted to get a post out & write some more but my laptop keeps lagging whenever I do anything. Ill def go back n edits some stuff :((

haii update on all my content :3

ive decided to private my old works, i plan on re-writing & revising them + updating my old formats to match my current ones! all my spiderverse stuff is on hold tho bc im currently obsessing over dc/batfam so expect more content like that. sorry if i disappointed you ( ´ ▽ ` )

How to Remember (Chapter 3)

Relationship: Batfam x reader (platonic)

Summary: At the age of 11, you woke up in an other world without any guidance and all the money you once lacked. You were left with only your memeories and your other memories.

You tired to remember, their life, but it seemed like they didn't want you too. So when trying to navigate the intricate sides of an elite school, but you always got in trouble when it came to faces and names.

Cw: Slight dislocation

No use of Y/n

Wc: 5.8k

Masterlist

<Prev

VROOOOOM

The drive back to the manor was silent. The night is slowly moving on as they cruise along the tunnel leading back to the manor. This isn’t unusual for Bruce and Damian. They would always get in some type of fight with each other causing them to ignore each other, but this time is different. Bruce seems off. Damian knows that his father would never let his emotions show  easily. So picking up on something being off with him, even if only Damian could see a glimpse of it, is a rare moment.

Damian observes his father. Bruce didn’t move to speech, only blankly staring down the tunnel. Damian knows only one thing would make him so stuck, you. He isn’t sure why but it has to be you. From the photo on the wall to the way Bruce seemed far more concerned with your well being after tonight then he would for any normal civilian. You mean something to Bruce, and Damian hates that he doesn’t know why. Sure, you are very interesting to watch, and seem to have a decent head on your shoulders, for most things.

 But why you? 

What makes you the one to make Bruce Wayne, The Batman, lose his indifferent attitude? He alway cares for the people they are saving but never in the way Bruce seems to be so concerned with you. When they pull into the batcave, Bruce wastes no time getting out of the car and on to the Computer. Alfred stands idly by with medical equipment, and tea in hand.

 “Good evening to you too master bruce.” Alfred says with an abundance of sarcasm, his eyes follow Bruce across the room. “What has you in such a hurry tonight?” Alfred was pouring a cup of tea and handing it to Damian as he approached him. Bruce doesn’t respond, he is pulling up all known social media sites looking for the same thing ‘Gotham drone fight’. The screen is flooded with videos of you early that night, of you. Alfred drops trays when he sees you, He stares at your face on the computer, the way you smile. “Is that…”

“___, Yes.” Bruce grabs his chins and leans bad in his chair. Afred quickly starts to clean up the dropped tray and its content, he places them to the side as he walks closer to the computer. “They are different.”

“They are difficult.” Damia states matter-of-factly. He sets the empty tea cup aside as he walks over to the computer. He watches the video of you punching the man, you claimed you knew how to fight from martial arts but this seemed more like something someone would learn to survive, it was too inconsistent of material arts. Your kick is from material arts, it was clean and precise. “Father, how do you know them?”

“It doesn’t matter Damian” Bruce stares at the video for a while longer before he moves it to the side and brings up records for you. They all seem to be outdated as they only have a photo of you when you were younger. God, you looked depressed as a child. He starts clicking on other files bringing them, comparing and contrasting them to the video of today.

“I think it does matter when you can’t even think when they are in danger” Damian points out. He always knew how to get under his father's skin. Bruce stops, and slowly turns his chair towards damian. “Don't think I didn’t see how you froze up when they had a knife against their throat.” 

“That was nothing,”Bruce dismisses Damian's accusation as he turns back around to the computer, clicking on different files. For a few moments there is only the sound of typing and clicking in the room. Damian was trying to get a read on his father, what was he thinking at this very moment? He looks at the computer, most of this stuff was things he had found in his earlier research. Bruce reads the files so intently that it was almost like he was reading about someone from their family. Dmaian continues to watch his father, until a family portrait, or a photo of one.

It is a photo of a damaged portrait from both a fire and some type of tear, it looked like it was from a police investigation. Damian stares at it, there is a family of 3 in that portrait, only a mother and child are recognizably human, the father didn’t have and upper half. The mothers face is unrecognizable due to the damage, but the child has a bit more of a face then the mother. He moves closer to the computer. Bruces is too distracted by the other file and photos to notice Damian looking over his shoulder. Alfred, on the other hand, is watching Damian closely, he tensed up as Damian's eyes grew sharper.

 Damian looks closely and the child’s face, only half of their face is barely intact. The child’s looks as if they are staring into his soul, reading all of his secrets, they have a detached look in their eyes. Damian almost missed the familiarity because of the unsettling eyes.Damian feels Alfred's eye on him, but he has had enough of them avoiding his questions “Who is the-” Damian starts, but before he could get another word out Alfred pushes him toward the exit of the cave. “Alfred, what's going on?” He tries to dig his feet into the floor with little success.

“It is almost 8:00 am, Master Damian.” Alfred is rather abrupt, he is in a rush. “While master Bruce should also go to bed, he is an adult and I can't make that decision for him but I can for you.” Alfred ushered Damian to the exit even quicker. 

“Father, are you going to let him do this?” Damian holds back Alfred for a moment to see if he can get a reaction out of him.

“Alfred is right damian, you should go to bed, we have a big day ahead of us.” Bruce nods as he continues to read over things. Alfred pushes Damian into the elevator and pushes the button to go up. 

“Master Damian, please don’t ask Master Bruce about this, at least not today.” Alfred states in a hushed tone, he gives Damian an earnest expression. Alfred hopes Damian could understand, maybe one day. Damian folds his arms as the doors close, leaving Alfred and Bruce in the batcave to continue their work. 

Damian is furious. What make you so important to them? Damian is greeted by Titus waiting for him outside of the entrance. Damian pets his head quickly as he exits the elevator. He knows something is up now, and what his father and Alfred are hiding has something to do with you. He wants to know, no. He needs to know. He will know. Instead of walking to his room to sleep, he walks into the kitchen to feed his pets before he goes to sleep. When he walks into the kitchen, he meets 2 other people in there. One of them is grabbing food from the fridge as his laptop is resting on the countertop with his phone being right next to with articles pulled up on, and the other one is eating cereal while scrolling through his phone. 

“Good morning, Damian” Duke takes another bite of his cereal as his clicks on another video of last nights fight. “How was patroll last night?” Duke looks over his phone at Damian,smirking. Damian clenched his fist and grits his teeth. Duke, laughs at him . Damian takes a deep breathe and closes eyes, he doesn’t have the energy to deal with this. He walks over to a cabinet, opens it and takes out food for Titus, as well as his other pets.

“It was fine, thomas, just busy.” Wow did he sound like his father with the vague answers. He picks up titus’ bowl and pours some kibble in it. 

“Oh really, Nothing 

He stops and looks at Tim still standing in front of the fridge with the door wide open. “Drake, What are you doing?” He puts the bowl of food in front of titus and walks over to Tim, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

Tim jumps at the sudden contact, he quickly turns his head and holds his breathe. “Oh,” He lets out a sigh of relief and annoyance, because it was only Damian, and it was Damian. “I am grabbing food.” He pulls out an apple and a slice of cheese. Damian raises an eyebrow, Tim looks tired. Well he almost always is but he looks like he is trying to break the world record for the amount of time a human goes without sleep. Tim looks at his hands and puts back the slice of cheese and takes out the milk instead.  

“Drake, you should really think about something more nutritional than cereal.” Damian snaps at tim as he walks out of the kitchen. Duke stop mid bite and looks down at his food. Duke turns to say something but Damian is already half down the hall.

Damian is getting really tired of this cat mouse game when it comes to information about you. He is going to find out the truth, even if that means going to you.

“Okay,” Percy clasps they hands together and exhales “ So you fought the man that held a knife to your throat, in front of Batman and Robin, and it went viral?” Percy says through their gritted teeth, you raise your head above one of the multiple clothing rank of formal clothing that take up most of your foyer, which was already pretty large in itself. You stare at them, they are taken a back by your stare, which always seems far off, but then you hesitantly nods. “Of course.” Precy shout exacerbated, throwing their arms up into the air. 

“I can never understand how you change up so fast ___” Val laughs softly as he pats Percy’s shoulder, “I have never seen someone go from cry on my shoulder to being almost completely normal in less than 12 hours.”

“Well you see my dear, Val” You chirp as you push your way through the clothing hang on the rack, pulling out serval articles of clothing out with you. “I have my therapy appointment on monday, and we all that when I go longer then 3 week without talking to her I go completely off the rail, these clothing being exhibit A” you gesture toward the rows and rows of clothes. “Never would be going on a normal day” you say flatly.

“Then why are you going at all!” Percy screams gripping their hair and pulls on it. You giggle and and shrug you shoulders. “No thats bullshit. Tell me the real reason now.” 

“Fine-” you roll your eye, “I meet damian wayne yesterday at school, by running into him, we talked, and I want to mess with him” you look away from them. Their mouth drops wide open in utter horror. Val face palms shaking from his held back laughter. You knew Percy wouldn't be happy with you but hey it fun, sort of. 

“You are utterly insane” they laugh, “Listen i know you aren't from this world, but everyone know that the wayne’s are the equivalent to royalty in Gotham” You look at them blankly. “Of course you didn’t know.” You nod your head. “Okay, we will come back to this.” They crack their knuckle nervously as their eyes dart around the room before landing on you. “Go put those on!” They wave their hand at you as you tun off to the bathroom giggling. They fall down into a squat after you leave the room. 

“Percy, I will never know how you got everything together so fast.” Val sighs, he watches them as the are hunched over kneeling. “You do a lot for us.” 

“Tt- you don’t have to say that again.” they take a few deep breathes “But i would do anything for them” Val hums, agreeing with Percy. They were alway hopelessly devoted to you. They sit in silence for a while before finally Val break that tension.

“Do you really think we should let ___ go to their gala?” Val held a bit animosity in his voice when speaking of ‘them’.  Percy hold tightens their grip on their arms.

“They have no memories of them so it is a dangerous bet,” You were walking back as they are talking, you stop at the mention of you. You hide behind a wall to continue to listen “ but we might be able to play off because of how things ended with the original ___ but I have my doubts.” Percy furrows their eyebrows. Your heart tightens. You remain quite as you peak around the corner.  They walk over to a rack over on the far end of the rack and pick out two suit that didn’t look like they were meant for you.

“What are the suits for?” Val question walking over to them.

“Us,” Percy hands a suit Val “You didn’t think I was going to let them go on their own did you?” Val’s mouth drops, but then he smiles and takes the suit from them.

“You are just as attractive as the day I meet you” He teases. They roll their eye and smile. You take this chance to walk out, you were quick to put on a cheerful smile as you quickly walk out from behind the wall. They turn to look at you.

“Maybe you should save the flirting for later, lover boy.” Percy pats Val’s cheek and walk towards you. They looks over your outfit just making sure everything is in place. “Perfect, now don't forget your shoes, and to brush your teeth”

“Wow, can't you just compliment me?” You sigh while pursing your lips, “you will never stop nagging you.” you laugh. Percy’s eyes soften as you laugh, they place a hand on you cheek and smile. It’s rare a genuine smile from them and not some strand laugh or tight smile when someone annoys them. It’s a real smile, not big or bright but a smile all the same.

“You look amazing.” they whisper to you, your heart tightens more as they pat you cheek a retract their hand  “now go up stair and brush your teeth. Your breath stinks” 

“Of course you would do that.” You shake your head “You two should get dressed, I wanna eat something before we go to the gala” 

“Of course” Val and Percy say in unison

You push Val and Percy toward to separate bathrooms for them to change before walking up to your room. You still feel the fresh air from you broken window, ‘replace within the next day my ass’. You walk in to your bathroom, everything was out of place thanks to Robin from the night before. You mentally note to take care of this later. You start brushing your teeth and let your mind wonder. It was about half past six in the evening now and you had only woken up maybe four hours ago, but really you got up with Percy arrived. You had never slept for over 12 hours, or not since you first came here. You know something was off about last night but you have yet to figure it out.

There almost always some villain that show up toward the end, you weren’t going to stick around for that. it started at six and ends at midnight (really one to two am), but knowing you, you are going to be there around eight since you aren’t going to leave here without getting something to eat (even if that meant you brush your teeth for nothing). You spit out the toothpaste foam, or whatever its called, and wipe you mouth on a hand towel discarded on the floor, while turing on the sink to wash it down the drain You look in the mirror fixing you outfit and hair. You alway wonder what it would’ve been like to see you mom here with you. 

What would she have said, done, and how she would’ve she looked at you. She probably would’ve come with you to the gala, she would be protective and scare of all the weird people that come near you two. Val and Percy would actually be able to enjoy the party. You always would want the impossible to be possible. This is only a far off dream of your, having to people you hold dear now and the person you have always held dear in the same world could never happen.

You let out a breathe you didn’t know you were holding. You exits your bathroom returning downstairs. Percy and Val still seem to be changing to so you take this as your que to grab a snack from the pantry, and scroll through social media. You, as you predicted, went viral, some love you, some hate you, and some are able to just admit they are jealous. It didn’t really matter what they thought, you are just having fun with it. You come across serval post about the Wayne gala to night, mostly from gothamites. They are mostly posting about the drama and fashion that comes from events like this, but a few did raise a good point about how even if it is of charity, there was no need for it to be so fancy and exclusive. You kind of agreed with them.

You turn off you phone, and place it down as you are finishing up the snack. You look over at the pile of mail on the table, still unsorted. The invitation is still where you left it, you didn’t really read it all, you leave your phone and snack on the counter and walk over to table and pick up the invatation

“___, Where are you?” Percy calls, from another room. “We need to get going soon.” Percy is  getting closer to you as they continue to talk.

“I am in the kitchen Percy, needed a snack,” You quickly slip the invite into a safe place, while you walk back over your snack. You finish eating and throw away the wrapper right as Percy enter the kitchen. They are a very elegant person, you honestly were in awe when first meeting them. You rarely seem them dress so formally, but it was nice. They were adjusting their earring when they walked in, you smile softly at them. “Wow, you look amazing.”

“Thank you,” They run their hand over their suit to flatten our wrinkles “now if Val could just hurry up.” They raise their voice so that Val could hear them, but val round the corner right as they finish.

“Calm down you cant rush perfect, now.” Val smirk at Percy, they roll their eyes and walk away from you and him. Val’s face falls and you laugh “What did i do wrong?” He turns to you with a defeated look. 

“You have an ego” you walk past him following Percy towards the front door. He stands the for a moment before following after you as you are leaving the apartment. The three of you enter the elevator, Percy presses the button for the ground floor

“So how are we getting there?” Val asks “It doesn’t look like we will be taking the normal car.” he nervously adjust the sleeve of his suit, cars always made him nervous.

“You’re right about that,”Percy replies, as the grab his sleeve and re-adjusts it for him.  “___ was admit that we let them drive their Motorcycle” a cold sweat rolls down Val’s face after hearing that you would be driving. “So we will be taking a separate car”

“Haha, don’t worry I wont drive fast” the elevator doors open “or at least i won’t get caught” you leave Val in utter shock while a stressed Percy drags him as they follow behind you into the lobby.

“Did you really have to say that?” Percy rubs their temple as a reluctant Val is struggling to form words. “You just made it worst for me to deal with.”

“Sorry not sorry.” You stick out your tongue. “you wouldn’t want to drive with me anyways” You smile as they quickly try to regain their composure from your idiocy. Percy walks away in a toward valet, leaving you and Val alone. Val looks at you, concerned.

“Are you sure you wanna go?” He looks at you in your eyes. For a moment you really consider if this is what you really want. You don’t really know why you are going in first place, you could easily have a simple weekend and do nothing but bask in your new social media fame while eating Batburger for the 3rd time this week. 

“Yes,” You stop, “mostly” Val’s stare really wears you down quickly “Not really, I am just nervous but I feel like I am too far in.” so the truth finally comes out. “I just kinda want to go to figure out why i am invited in the first place, you know? And i think it would be kinda fun to annoy damian”

“But are you really going to just annoy Damian?” Val was alway good at raising good points at the worst times “It seems like your doing to much for a guy you just meet.” he place a hand on your shoulder and give you a reassuring squeeze.

“I hate when you’re right.” You look at Percy who already seems to be losing hair, you feel bad but you feel like this is needed. “But i am trying to understand why i am invited in the first place sp, I still think i should go.” Val presses his lip together.

“Fine, but we can leave whenever you want.” Val let’s go of your shoulder as Percy returns with two key and hands you one of them. 

“Of course” You tighten the grip on your keys, you sometimes wish you be more honest with them, but you can never feel like they care for you like they seem to for their version of you. You walk out grabbing the helmet from the valet attendant as the get off of the motorcycle. 

“Now, don't be too crazy.” Percy grabs onto you helmet before you put it on. “We want you alive, and not more injured than you already are”

“Okay”  You smile at them as you start the engine “I won’t do any wheelies then” You put on your helmet and quickly push up the kick stand up, waving bye to Val before Percy could get in another word in, you speed off.?

You weave between the cars on the street as you drive. You rarely drive, but when you do it’s always fast and messy; this time is no different seeing as you just missed your turn. Probably would miss the turn at least 3 more times before finally getting it right. To be honest you might do it subconsciously to make the drive longer, but whos knows. Lights of the city blurred together, you always feel the most free when you act the most reckless.. When you finally get the right turn you slowed down as you approach the entrance.

The gala was being held in wayne tower (which was only meant to be a 5 minute drive for you, but you easily turned it into a 20 minute drive), Percy and Val are waiting by the entrance for you. The paparazzi lines the stair, lights flashing as you pulled up and pull off you helmet. The red carpet is busy with serval celebrities and business officials posing and taking interviews There already seems to be a commotion a bit further up, you try to look to see who it might be but the flashes blinds you.

“You would think they might not use the flash as much” you use your hand to cover you eyes as you turn away from the red carpet. Percy walks up to you left side and leans in covering their mouth with their hand.

“Maybe you were here 15 minutes ago you wouldn’t have had to deal with this” they jest at you “You seem to be upstaged by a wayne member who just arrived” You roll your eyes as you squint harder to try to make out which member it might be. Val approaches you on the right.

“I think you should start moving instead of acting like you are apart of the paparazzi” He gently pushes you forward a step in front of him and Percy “You can’t act too star struck now, you didn’t even know the wayne two days ago” Val laughs. 

“I am not star struck,” You start walk up the stairs moving around the people posing “just trying to see if it’s damian so I can annoy him faster” Percy and Val let out a heavy sigh trying to hide their laughter. You see a man in a suit a talking to a news anchor as you walk up the stairs, you can easily assume that is the mentioned Wayne. It wasn’t damian, he was too happy to be talking to someone, you almost immediately lose interest. You look toward the paparazzi, they were all focused on the Wayne. You start to feel pressure behind your eyes as they go in and out of focus. 

“At least we won’t have to deal with the media” Val lightly nudges you to the side, you blink a few times before you look up at him. He gives you a sly grin, “We wouldn't need theses sharks looking for fresh blood on out door step.” You are quick to get back in to moment.

“Hey!” you slap his arm “How dare you compare sharks to these people? At least shark are cute!” He let’s out a low laugh as percy was pinches their nose

“You really need to start moving rather then just stand here.” Percy whispers into your ear, you nod your head to acknowledge them, all while rolling your eyes as you starts walking up the stairs.   

You look straight forward for the most part. You know its better to keep a low profile rather then make your presents know, but of course you are meant to make a mistake. You look over for no more then ten seconds, and yet they recognize you. You almost immediately look forward again but it is already to late, someone recognizes you. It is a a domino effect after this. Slowly, each reporter and photographer are trying to get you to pay attention to them.

“Shit” you squeak out as Percy quickly guides you through the crowd avoiding the sides as best as possible while Val follows closely behind trying to shield you. But with your luck you run in to someone separating you and Percy. You try to find you way back to them however you are met with a wall of mics. 

Oh well isn’t this just perfect?

You don’t know what to do in front of camera when they have people behind them, so what’s better then giving them two thumbs up and a half assed smile? Anything. So that’s what you do as the cameras click away. 

“Who are you?”  a reporter loudly asks, you feel the panic start to set in.

“Uh…” You can feel your mind turn to radio static.

“Don’t say anything.” Val and Percy simultaneously yell at you in a panic 

“ I am ___ ” Their words reach your brain a second too late. Instant regret fills your mind. They start call out your name being followed by serval variation of the same question. Your head is spinning from the crowd. You start to move up the stairs once again trying to avoid answering anymore questions. Val and Percy quickly follow after you. 

You bump into the wayne who was now paying more attention to the commotion you caused then then person interviewing him. Percy quickly guides you away from him as you barley see his eyes meet yours as you are being usher into the building. You feel sick. You quickly find a place to sit down. Val and percy talk a bit before, Percy takes out their phone and calls someone.

You are unable to walk from uneasiness that grows in your heart. You feel as if thousands of hands are crawling up your back, all while someone is forcefully keeping your eyes open to watch a fast moving filming . His eyes, you know them, you knew them. You always want to remember the life of the other you, but when you did it is always painful. The memories are never clear enough to understand, but the emotions are. You can’t even deal with your own issues to adding on someone else's makes it worst.

Fuck, this is going to bite you in the ass this week.

“Wow, that was something.” You play with your fingers staring at the floor as Percy is on the phone pacing while Val is trying to get you to say something. “Are you okay? They didn’t try to grab you right?” You nod your head, not looking up at him. Percy ends the call and sighs.

“Okay,” Percy claps their hands together “ we will have people to help us get out of here when you are ready to.” you don’t respond. They put their phone away in a pocket of their suit, then sit next you. “Are you..?” they gently and slowly wrap their arms around your back. You flinch away, before looking up at them and then to Val. 

“No, no. I am here. I am fine.” You shake out your hands, then wipe them on your clothes as you get up quickly. Pushing their arm off of you. “Thank you for getting people for after.” You smile at them, “sorry to cause so much concern”

“Its okay.” They stand up and pat your back. “We should have done this to begin with.” Val nods in agreement. You try to ignore the way the memories make your head throb. 

“We underestimated the impact of social media” Val looks towards the door. Many of them are still attempting to take photos of you in the lobby. You use your hand to shield your eyes from the flashes of the camera. 

“You wouldn’t say.” You look at Val from the side of your eyes before you look around the lobby. The receptionists have gone home and it was only a few rich people in far off corners of the room. Some of them are starting at all of you as you are in the middle of the lobby. “Let’s just get up stairs.”  

“I agree.” Percy grabs Val’s arm and walks him over to the elevator waiting for you. You give the lobby one last glance before you walk over to elevator. You press the button to call for the elevator. The elevator couldn’t have come at any later, the Wayne from earlier entered the lobby. You can feel the memories trying to rip away the fog put up by the other you, but it is easier to handle now. You take a glance at him just to try and figure out which Wayne it was. 

It was difficult to tell with most of the boys because majority of them are copies of Bruce with no biological relation, so it would be better to go off of age. He looks older than you, around 20-25, closer to middle of that guess though. With process of elimination you safely assume that it is Tim Drake, famous for being just as smart as Bruce, maybe even smarter. He has his own personal fortune thanks to his parents, so he is familiar with the upper-class environment. Basically, avoid him because of the headache and having no experience in ‘high society’. He seems to be to more consumed by the crowd of rich people who had left their corners. They are like shiver of sharks coming at him as if he is fresh prey.  You grin and bite your inner lip as you recall the nature document you used to watch in public school.

“Percy, What do always you compare theses events to?” You turn your eyes away from Tim as you look at Percy. They look at you from the corner of their eyes.

“It is like toddlers and tiara, but it’s only the overbearing adults who couldn’t fill their need for attention.” Percy looks toward the crowd growing around Tim. You cover your face as you are giggling quietly. “But this seems to be more like the pageants and its the adults competing instead.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” You clear your throat like you have to cough trying to conceal your laughs. You look back over for a moment to try and get another visual of the crowd, but you are surprised to see Tim pushing his way to the elevators, towards you. 

Why did i decide to be so difficult for myself?

You drag your eyes away from him. Right on que, there was the blessed ding of the elevator. The doors open and you are quick to step in, while trying to get Percy and Val to get on so you could close the doors. As much as you would love to understand the connection, you don’t really want to have to deal with emotions of the memories, and the possibility that he might recognize you, if he knew the other you. 

You weren’t quick enough of course, he steps on right as the doors star closing. You hide your face as he turns back to all of you guys. “What flo-” he stops mid sentence. Shit. “Percy?” your eyes go wide, he recognizes percy? You turn your head slightly, only enough to see percy out of the side of your eye. They did not look happy in the slightest, they look almost hateful to him.

“What floor do you think?” they fold their arms and doesn’t even try to hide their annoyance behind their smile. “There’s really only one floor we could be going to.” They push him to the side as the press the button for the top floor. 

“Yeah of course.” Tim awkwardly turns a back a round. You go back to staring at the wall of the elevator, it was surprisingly fun to look at, but the ride seems to be endlessly slow. Percy and Val move in front of you blocking his view of you. “I saw __ with you early,” you freeze up as the elevator grows more tense  “did they already go to the gala without you?”

“I don’t think you need to know.” Val speaks up. unlike Percy. he is trying to hide his emotions with a calmer tone. Why are they trying to hide you?

“Well I mean it kind of is, seeing as I am a ward of the hosting family.” TIm snaps back with a stranded smile. Val and percy are both about to respond as the elevator door open. A woman stands in front of elevator.

“Invitations please” she smiles.

Quick A/N- Just to clarify the ages of batfam, and reader + co. (i did age up and age down some for story purposes sorry if this bothers you)

Damian - 15

Duke - 17 (same grade as reader)

reader's friend group - 17-18

Reader - 18

Cass- 18-19

Steph- 19

Tim- 22 (i think tim is meant to be 6 to 7 years older than damian so he is finally not 17 )

Jason- 24

Barbara - 33

Dick- 30

Percy- 40

Val- 38

Bruce- 44

Alfred- 63.

Taglist: @problematicreblogger @mileskisser @hoeinthehouse @luminous011 @enjisthings @earth-to-mee @thereeallink @pasta-warlord @just-here-reading

black cat! reader and mark grayson have such a fun dynamic. equivelant to a certian web slinger and his love interest. you two are different, at least you think so from what Mark has told you about this hero he's met.

like every black cat, you meet your future little fling by being caught red handed where you don't belong, by Invincible. At a museum at night, after hours and dangling upside down to steal the supposed " Jewel of the Sea'. You look like a delicate thing to mark, pretty and suspended with greedy claws reaching for glistening jewel through the spaces of red lasers. you blend in with pretty art pieces and glistening chandeliers. you should be framed on the wall and admired for all to see.

course, like all black cats, you get hauled to jail that night when invincible breaks his trance of staring long enough to aprehend you far too easily. you give in, give up. you don't like fighting against pretty men or people like him. that boyish grin and dimples that are apparent when you purred against his chest, trapped wrists encircling around his neck while you bat pretty eyes. you try to convince him poorly to let you go, and not give you up. you'd rather spend a night in his bed and arrested by his hands, than by locked up behind bars.

red and blue police lights catch the red of your lipstick on the corner of his lips, the smear of makeup never comes off quite right as much as he rubs at it with his fist. invincible is glowing, a red hue covers his cheeks when you give him a wink behind the glossy cop car window.

a few days later, you'll be out. no bail gives you freedom, but your keen cat like intelligence and your stupid minions that managed to bust you out. it gives you enough time to plot your next encounter with your colorful superhero, and how you can get revenge for him ruining your museum heist.

AAAAA THIS IS SO GOODDD FEED ME MORE /NF /POS

𓂃 ˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀𓂃𓈒 ᴀ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʟɪꜰᴇᴛɪᴍᴇ 𓈒𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖

˖⋆⑅˚₊𖧷 ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴅɢᴇʜᴏɢ x [ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ] ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

: ̗̀➛ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ᴡᴀᴋᴇꜱ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴ ᴜɴᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ɪꜱ ɢʀᴇᴇᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴀ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟɪᴀʀ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ. ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʟᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, ꜱᴇᴘᴀʀᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ, ᴡɪʟʟ ʜᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀᴄʜ ʜᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰɪɴᴅ ʜᴇʀ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ?

: ̗̀➛ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ[ꜱ]: mild angst, fluff

: ̗̀➛ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.2k

➹ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: divider crdts: thecutestgrotto,strangergraphics

Shadow opened his eyes and squinted when the bright light greets his vision. The wind brushes through his fur, warm and welcoming. The grass pokes through his fur, cold and soft. The blinding light was then shrouded into a dim visage, leaves from the branches providing a veil. His head felt light as his body felt as though he had fallen into an endless pit of the nonexistent ground. 

“Finally awake, are we?” a soft voice spoke amidst the quiet, tranquil atmosphere. 

Shadow looked to meet a pair of warm and kind familiar eyes gazing back at him. Then slowly rises as if gravity was holding him down until he is in a sitting position. He places a hand against his head, processing the situation he is in. 

Shadow then finds himself asking, “How did I get here? Is this real? A dream?” he says as he looks at his gloved palm, trying to figure out whether he is dreaming or not, his mind still in shambles. He receives no answer so he turns his head to look at the person who he’s been trying to find ever since.. 

She only offered him a gentle smile as she stood up and held out a hand, indicating for him to take it. Shadow furrowed his brows, confused why she didn’t answer his question. He glances at her outstretched hand for seconds before he gives in and takes it in his. She gently pulls him up on his feet with a little giggle, the sound having Shadow even more befuddled at her antics. He knew she had always been a playful spirit in nature, but there was something peculiar in the layers of her mirthful demeanor. 

His eyes flickered to their still connected hands, and a fuzzy feeling suddenly poked inside him. Her hand felt comfortingly warm against his, but it vanished too soon when she let go of him. Shadow disregarded the feelings away as there were words that he needed to say, questions that needed to be answered. There was something foreseen in the air and the place he’s currently in, the leaves rustling, the winds whispering, all this was foreign to him. 

“What happened to you? Where are we and how come that you’re here?” the words slipped from him, his voice steady. 

But to his disappointment, the girl still had not provided him any reply, not even a single hint to make him understand what was going on. Though there was a little movement in her one ear and an unreadable glint in her eyes. Still, Shadow started to grow impatient at her incessant silence and narrowed his eyes.

“Why won’t you answer me?” Still no word from her as she blinked at him. He only sighed in defeat and shook his head. 

“At least tell me,” he says again, slow and restless; the one he’s been wanting to say ever since he woke up and her being the first thing he sees in his awakening. “If you’re alright.” 

And she finally responded with a nod as an answer to him. At least he was convinced that she wasn’t going to give him the silent treatment all day. Relief washed over him but the contradiction of her actions dwelled, the simple gesture not enough to sustain his intuition towards her.

Suddenly, she held out her hand again and curled them into fist. Shadow arches one brow, confused. A knowing smile finds its way to her lips again, a lilt in them. She repeats the same notion again and starts to slowly back away from him. Shadow, still left in the dark, wondered what she was trying to do until something finally jogged up into his head. 

Oh. 

It was the gesture between them of which she had created, a game probably, where she wanted him to follow her along. He always disliked them as he found them utterly ridiculous, such activity is not for him to partake in his nature. But there was nothing stopping the girl from always gesturing for him to do so, until he finds himself eventually giving in to her wiles.

 He rumbles a grunt in his chest. It’s not like he can’t do anything else at this point. There was nothing else in this world he’s currently in; just him and her. 

He finds himself taking a step forward, mindlessly, as the girl gets farther away from him. Then another step, and another, then his walks turn into a jog, until he’s following after her footsteps. He heard her laugh, the sound distant yet harmonic, echoing throughout the fields and into the trees, as both of them ran through the forest. For a moment, Shadow felt strangely at ease, a weight being taken off from his shoulders, a knot being tied loose. It’s like he could relive this moment for as long as he could.

With her. 

Her silhouette drifted to and fro in Shadow’s vision, like a pure enact of a nymph vanishing and appearing in the eyes of a lost wanderer, her laughs that sound of a melodic chant that lures them in. 

Shadow kept jogging after her, a rush of light adrenaline rushing through his veins, his heart starting to palpitate against his chest. No matter how close he got to her, she seemed to simply outran him with a lighthearted laugh. Perhaps she could be a potential opponent in terms of racing in the future.

Until they both slowly skidded to a stop when they reached the opening of the forest. A vast greenery land, garnished with a plethora of florals in various shades of color. The wind blew them as they danced along with its gust, a cascade of warm light upon the sky, the sun gleaming through the thinly veiled clouds that waltzes by. The girl lets out a breath of relief, closing her eyes as she relishes in the breeze, calming her nerves from the previous running. Shadow having no need to rest since he’s accustomed to it, as what he was created for in immune exhaustion for a little activity such as this one. 

After what seemed like a long time, at last out of breath, she said in the air, “I missed that.” 

Shadow looks at her and huffs, crossing his arms against his chest. “Decided to finally speak?” 

She turns around to meet his red, sharp eyes and links her hands behind her. “I’m sorry,” she smiles woefully at him as she continues, “I couldn’t risk them hearing us. The aura was too exposed at the place we were in.” 

Them? 

Shadow’s eyes taper in puzzlement. “What are you talking about? What do you mean by them? Just what is going on in this place?” The questions came flooding out once again, brick by brick of his burning curiosity sending him to the edge. 

The girl hums, lifting her head up to look at the clear sky and closes her eyes. “Dilly dally shilly shally. Why worry about a thing when you’re in the safest place you’ve ever been?” She says in a sing-sang voice, her gaze returning to him.

Shadow could only stare at her in pure bewilderment, baffled nonetheless. He has known her for a long appropriate period of time, and he never thought there will be a time where her character strangely feels out of ordinary, would ever ignite a sense of uncertainty in him. The way she was acting just does not sit right with him. What if she’s not real? Posing as an imposter to deceive him? What if something did happen to her and what all he’s seeing now is all the remains of who she once was? 

“Hey..” she softly calls out and Shadow instanly breaks from his clouded, dire trance. His attention diverted towards her and she was smiling reassuringly at him. “Don’t think about it so deeply or you might lose yourself.” 

Shadow breathes as if he’s been holding his breath the entire time. “I’m,” he starts, strain barely audible in his deep voice, “I have no idea what’s going on, especially with you. You’ve been gone for days and now, I woke up in a strange place and you’re the first person I see in it,” he trails for a moment and averted his eyes away in frustration, the mixed emotions he held in and suppressed, was slowly pouring out of him. “How do I even know if you’re her? That you’re real? Damn it, Rouge is worried about you. Omega can’t keep his machines from stirring every second whenever he mentions where you could be or how you were.”

This feeling in him, one that he’s repressing, foreign yet known. That feeling whenever he’s around her, although he tries to discard it away, it keeps coming back as if it has already been part of him from the very start. 

Silence came. None of them said a word as they stood in the meadow, nowhere, where both of them were the only living things that existed. The wind whispers amongst the trees, flowers partaking along. 

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes for the second time. Shadow huffs disapprovingly and presses his hand against his forehead, shrouding his eyes. “Is that all you can say?” he retorts in her way. 

He heard footsteps and the rustle of grass coming onto his way and before he knew it, he felt a warm, tender touch in his cheek. Taken aback, he whisks his head towards her, steel red eyes widening at the sudden close contact between them. No one had ever touched him like this before. Not since Maria. The sensation melted through him, a river of longing and ache running through his bloodstream. Her eyes that held his gleamed in sincere remorse and kindness combined that caused his heart to skip a beat. 

“I mean it,” she merely said to him as she smiled. 

There was an urge but Shadow resisted to act on it. The urge to take her hand, hold it against his, and never let her go; that she will never be taken from him again. 

So he chose to close his eyes and leaned into her touch and felt her hand stiffened the slightest against his cheek, surprised at his action before it relaxed. 

“Where are you?” Shadow utters quietly, a voice he didn’t think himself would possess. 

“I’m right here. I always have been.”

Her touch slips away too soon, like a silk coming free. Her warmth vanishes from him, leaving a trail of her touch lingering on his fur. 

“Tell me where you are,” said the dark hedgehog, his voice now serious and determined. The soon those words slipped from him, his surroundings started to dissipate into wisps like thin smoke. Alerted, Shadow quickly looks around as he witnesses the place he’s been in, the once calm field is gradually turning into disoriented images. Shadow cursed under his breath. 

When he looked for her, she was only a gap away from him, the smile etched on her face bordering between sadness and reassurance. “Don’t come for me.”

The world disintegrates further like a fire burning into cinder. With her words triggering something inside of Shadow, he sprints towards her yet before he could reach her, the gravity pulled him away. He struggled against the invisible force, outstretching his hand to her in desperation, weariness that ever glinted in his stone red eyes. 

“I will find you,” he shouts, the pressure in his chest and body urging him on as he attempts to break through the webs of gravity pulling them apart , “and I will come for you wherever you may be! I promise!” 

Then everything went to black with her face being the last thing he saw as he was pulled into vast darkness. 

Shadow’s eyes opened and groaned when he felt a throbbing sensation in his head. This was really getting tiring as of late now. It was only then he realized had fallen asleep against the wall. He looked around and saw Rouge still asleep on Omega’s arms, papers and pen scattered around the floor, walls imprinted on the wall. 

And his mind drifted to her. His head fell against his hands as his shoulder tenses while his jaw clenched. The hopelessness of not knowing of her whereabouts, her state, not even a single clue. The slow agony of the possibility of losing another person dear to him, someone he cherishes so deeply, Shadow had felt this kind of feeling before and it was happening once again. 

His fingers dug into his quills as he tried to compose himself. Now is not the time to despair. What matters is that he dreamt of her just as she dreamt of him, their subconsciousness connecting together, a sign that she had reached out for him just as he was trying to. It was a foretelling fortune, a sliver of hope. 

“I will find you,” he repeats again, just like he did to her in his dream. Whoever or what took her away from him, he swore on his grave that he is going to end their life. The one thing he cherishes that has been stolen from him, will not have an easy end in their face of death. 

Mark hugs are nice hugs

you just made me realize one of the main reasons why i barely ever feel engaged w a lot of mark x reader fics omg, so many people on here characterize him as this of pliant “softboi” who can never do anything wrong bc he has trauma so much it feels like he’s an entire different person when they write him LOL no shade at all but if mark was as one dimensional and weak willed as ppl portray him as i genuinely wouldn’t like him like i do now 😭

INVINCIBLE SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT!!!!

oh my god YES you get it completely.

no shade to anyone, but you’re so right so many fics flatten him into this super soft, trauma-coded, shy, clumsy “yes man” version of mark, and it completely misses the core of who he actually is. yes, he struggles. yes, he’s emotional. but that doesn’t make him weak or passive. it makes him messy. it makes him reactive. and honestly, sometimes it makes him dangerous.

people forget that mark can and does do real damage. not in a harmless way, but in a way that hurts people because he leads with his heart and his instincts instead of thinking things through. he’s impulsive. he’s stubborn. he doesn’t just roll over when someone tells him what to do he fights back, even when it’s painful.

like when he literally gives up on heroism in the comics. not just because he’s mad at the GDA, but because he realizes the whole system he fought for is fundamentally broken, he wants to protect his family, and staying would mean betraying himself. that’s not some passive sadboy move. that’s a gut-wrenching, conscious choice to walk away from everything he thought he was supposed to be.

people really miss how mark is actually portrayed sexually too. the fandom loves making him this whiny, submissive mess in relationships, but if you actually read the comics? when he gets older, even in his late teens and early twenties, he’s way more confident. he’s not shy about wanting things, emotionally or physically. he initiates, he asks, he wants.

he's a man who likes sex, who gets good at it, and who is not afraid to get messy, greedy, needy and to give as much as he takes. no offense, but fandom keeps writing mark like he’s this shy, blushing bottom who falls apart if you touch him, and that’s not him at all. in the comics, he’s confident, physical, and not shy about wanting someone. he’s not some giggling teehee virgin or a trembling sub and he’s not a strict, cold dom either. he’s human. messy, eager, hungry. he fucks like he means it because he feels everything hard and real, not because he’s performing some kink stereotype.

it’s like people are scared of a guy who’s emotional and sexually aggressive/active in a healthy way, so they flatten him into some weird soft uwu caricature that has nothing to do with how he actually acts. mark is messy, he’s real, he’s passionate. but that’s who he is. he grows up. he’s allowed to want sex and have it without it being ooc.

he’s not some clueless virgin blushing at a kiss. dude would absolutely pin you down and ruin you with a stupid smile on his face.

and then there’s the Oliver and Allen fight one of the biggest proof that he’s not weak-willed at all. he literally goes against his own brother and friend to stop the release of the scourge virus, because he knows it’s wrong. he knows it would cause genocide, and even though it shatters his relationships, he still stands his ground. because that’s who mark is. he’s emotional, he’s stubborn, he screws up but when it matters most, he chooses what he believes is right, even if it costs him everything.

you can definitely tell when some fic writers either haven’t read the comics (which, fair, they’re long), or honestly haven’t even fully paid attention to the show. they just base him off a one-dimensional stereotype like he’s this helpless, submissive little softboy who needs protecting. and that’s just not mark grayson.

he’s layered. he’s messy. he’s a disaster sometimes. but he fights, and he grows, and that’s what makes him one of the best written characters out there.

i’m so glad this clicked for you too omg. same braincell, same emotional damage, same desperate need to defend comic/show mark’s honor forever <3 this ask had me going on a rant but i genuinely had to talk about it.. :)

The Misteryous Visitor IV

Batfamily x batsis (platonic!)

Synopsis: Bruce finally confronts Damian, and hates how tonight's events seemed to turn out just to remind him what a terrible father he is. He felt like he didn't deserve you, and he wanted at all costs to avenge the injustice Talia committed with you two.

Warnings: Family discussion; maternal overprotection; Bruce has psychiatric problems and is mentally unstable, besides being very angry; mentions depression, post-traumatic stress and the like.

Word count: 3.7k

Note: I apologize for taking so long to post the fourth part. I was looking for inspiration to continue in other fandoms. Now I feel engaged again to continue posting

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV

"She is not a secret." Damian tried to sound firm, looking Bruce in the eyes to avoid suspicion. But no matter what he did or how long he tried to maintain the lie, his father had already decided what to think about this enigmatic and strange situation.

"Hmm..." He let out a disheartened murmur, and the boy never thought something like this would happen, but he frowned with worry as he saw Bruce pour another drink. It wasn't like his father to act this way.

When Damian first met him in person at ten years old, he could have sworn Bruce and Talia were somewhat enjoying themselves that day, even with the barbs hidden in some exchanged sentences. Or maybe he was mistaken; after all, it had been so long. Perhaps he had preserved a false memory.

"How much have you drunk?" The boy asked with a disdainful voice, trying to hide that he was truly concerned.

"Why have you never talked about her? She is your sister, Damian." Bruce ignored the question but in a kind of silent acknowledgment, he rested the glass on the side table, preventing himself from getting drunk.

"Why are you acting like this? As if it's a big deal." He made a face of confusion. "Why do you care so much about this? She isn't even your problem. I won't stay here being interrogated because of her." Damian got up, taking hurried steps to the front door. He was running away, and he knew it.

"Where are you going?" Bruce stood to follow him, finally showing some kind of emotion beyond stoicism since they had been alone in the room.

"I'm going to wait for my mother outside. And when she appears, I'll come back to fetch S/n. Then you won't have to see her anymore, ever again." Damian said, and although Bruce didn't know if in the last part his son was referring to you or Talia, he didn't dare ask for the detail.

"Why didn't you ask any of us for help when you found out she was missing? If she is someone so close to you, you could have talked to us." Bruce was speaking in that strange way again, like when he found out Jason was the Red Hood. He was hurt, and as if a whistle had snapped in his mind, Damian understood that his father was like this because of him. It wasn't Talia or how she always ended up causing problems; it was him. "You hid from me that you were still talking to your mother."

"And did I need to inform you that I talk to my mother?" The boy tried to maintain a haughty tone, repressing the urge to shout so that Bruce wouldn't see his conflicting feelings.

The truth is that it hurt to lie like this. It hurt even more to lie to you. Damian didn't show or openly say what he felt; his mother once told him that was weakness, but honestly, now he was disgusted with himself.

"You didn't need to inform me, but you made an effort to hide it!" Bruce didn't shout. His voice was grave, authoritative, and deep down had a tone of betrayal that had twice the impact of a shout. He seemed to reflect on something, and patiently Damian awaited a lamentable outburst, but just as he himself would do, Bruce was avoiding becoming emotional.

"I don't understand why, but you came to live with me and seemed to exclude her from your life because of us. She is your sister and didn't even know I am your father! You sent letters, which I'm sure you hid not just from me but from her too. And she ended up here in the middle of the night like a fugitive. Will you tell me again that all this has no reason?"

"Even if there were a reason, it wouldn't be your business." The young man replied harshly, and once again: it was a lie. It was his business. Seeing Bruce's angry scowl turn into a defeated look made one of his fingers tremble. Realizing only after saying something that what he did was wrong made a panic arise in his chest.

Bruce sat back in the armchair, giving up on the discussion once and for all. He felt so stupid for thinking he was succeeding in freeing his son from the League of Assassins' clutches, that he was doing a good job showing him he didn't need the blind loyalty Talia taught him to have. He feared that Damian would succumb to a villain's life, exactly as Ra's al Ghul wanted Bruce to be: cruel and ruthless.

Talia stirred bad reactions in him, and his sense of justice hammered in his head. How could he simply hand you back into her hands after you came here tonight? That woman was a bad influence on anyone, and it didn't matter if you were her daughter; you were a child. And wasn't that what he did with all his children? Took them from the streets and bad parents?

He wanted to vomit at the idea of allowing you to continue being raised by someone like her, among those people, but if he couldn't even change Damian, what could he do for you? Bruce couldn't force you to stay, but at the same time, he grappled with the internal conflict of corroborating that one day you would become like those people. He is Batman, his duty is to protect. He should protect you too.

Bruce rubbed his eyes, feeling an intense headache and he day was already dawning again"Your mother isn't coming, Damian." He asserted, noticing that a long time had passed since they started waiting, getting up to return to his own room.

"You said we had a lot to talk about." Suddenly, the boy felt the need to prolong the conversation, if this could even be considered a conversation. It was as if they would never speak again if he allowed his father to leave.

"We don't anymore." Was cold, and that made the boy swallow hard. Bruce knew he would regret being so harsh, but at that moment, he wasn't thinking straight. The rational part of his brain was being dominated by his impulsive side.

Bruce opened his bedroom door with unusual violence. Lately, these episodes of anger were frequent, perhaps due to interrupted sleep; this damned insomnia was worse than in the last months. Alfred had already suggested he see a psychiatrist, but Bruce was sure he would leave there with a worse diagnosis than expected, so he avoided it as much as possible.

The butler once dared to mention that he might have some type of post-traumatic stress, but Bruce was stubborn and that led to an argument. He was a controlled man, but that day he shouted. The reaction was not unexpected, considering the tension from the chaos Scarecrow was causing in the city at the time, but Alfred was observant and knew the problems went beyond that.

The death of his parents was a delicate subject, and combined with the pressure of being Batman, Alfred saw Bruce become more obsessive, anxious, and even depressed over the years. Fortunately, the emergence of Dick was a break in the sad loneliness for him. And then came Jason, Tim, Damian, and things improved for a while, but the relapses still existed.

Bruce sighed as he admired his bed, wishing he could sleep again, but knowing he wouldn't be able to without taking another dose of pills, which certainly wasn't an option. Then he noticed your coat there. The garment had been left in his room, carefully placed on the arm of the room's couch.

He walked over and picked up the coat, rubbing the soft fabric with melancholy and noting how well-kept the garment was. It would probably be a good idea to return it to you; Would also be an opportunity to check if you were well accommodated.

Cautiously, he walked to the guest wing. Bruce thought he would need to check the rooms one by one to discover where Alfred had placed you, but a beam of light leaking from one of the doors indicated which one. He hesitated to turn the knob; it felt too intrusive. So, he knocked: three soft taps on the wood. He waited a few seconds, but you didn't come to open it, and he gave in to the act of opening it himself.

In slow movements, he leaned to look inside the room, without entering yet and checking if everything was okay. He saw your figure well wrapped in the covers, eyes closed and breathing in a consistent rhythm. You were sleeping, and the light he saw was the bedside lamp.

He entered, doing everything to control his steps, going to a chair to place the coat there. He felt the need to be gentle with the garment for some reason, handling the coat with such care, as if holding you in his hands.

He was envious of how pleasant your sleep seemed, wishing he could sleep like that too. He thought of turning off the lamp, but regretted it when he saw that his act interrupted your sleep. As soon as everything went dark, he heard the rustle of the covers, signaling that you had woken up. You stayed still for a while, staring at the shadow in front of you, knowing someone was there but too embarrassed to ask who it was, until the light was turned back on and you saw Mr. Wayne.

"Sorry, I think I woke you," he said softly, genuinely feeling guilty. "I brought your coat. I left it to dry better; it's still a bit wet," he continued, gesturing towards the chair.

"Thank you, Mr. Wayne," you replied groggily due to the minutes you spent sleeping. Thinking he would leave, you clasped your hands as if praying and placed them under your cheek on the pillow. A common but funny position.

"Call me just Bruce," he sat on the edge of the bed, looking at your face. He had a question stuck in his throat and thought it would be a good idea to start a conversation. "Are you okay?"

"I am. Thank you for letting me sleep at your house." you answered serenely, and he nodded in agreement. "And you?" You asked back. Bruce blinked, surprised by your question, realizing that your eyes were shining. The truth is he couldn't say how he felt, so he said what anyone would say: 

"Yes, I'm okay," he said, more focused on your face, knowing you might be uncomfortable with that but wanting to see you better. 

“Can I ask you something?” He seemed anxious, and you waited expectantly in silence, which he took as a yes. “Why did your mother separate you two like that? Why didn’t she tell you anything?”

You stared at a random spot on the mattress, feeling a pang in your chest at the memory. “She did, in a way. Mom doesn’t like you very much, Mr. Wayne. I think that’s why,” you said, looking back at him, seeing him raise his eyebrows in amusement; you corrected yourself with a gasp: “Bruce.”

“Did she speak badly of me to you?” Bruce was curious like a silly child, even though a serious scowl was etched on his face.

“Not exactly about you. Mom and Grandpa hate Batman.” By this point, you had already figured it out. It wasn’t hard to connect the dots between your family and Robin with him after a few minutes of reflection. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

Bruce let out a dry laugh, caught off guard. “Yes, it’s me,” he confirmed, and you shifted to sit more upright on the bed, excited.

“Is it true that you killed the Joker?” Your question made Bruce’s scowl turn puzzled. So that was the kind of rumor circulating.

“No, I didn’t kill him. He just... disappeared one day,” the same day Bruce thought he had lost Jason, and although deep down he wanted very much to have done it, he didn’t find it appropriate to admit that to you.

“I’m confused,” your voice became more relaxed, he thought it was due to the casual tone the conversation was taking. “If Damian is Robin now, what happened to the other one? He didn’t die, did he?” You asked the last question in a whisper, fearing it was true.

Bruce laughed at this. He had never thought about how people assumed Robin was a single person all these years. “No, he’s fine. You’d be surprised if I told you five different people have been Robin.”

Your eyes widened, and suddenly you remembered a detail: “There was a girl, wasn’t there? I remember seeing some photos in an old newspaper.”

Bruce was perplexed at how much you seemed to know about him, but in a good way. “Yes, there was a girl. She’s Batgirl now,” when he said that, your smile widened even more. It seemed like you were a secret fan, he would say, since in your own words: "Talia hates him" and Bruce knows she would hardly allow you to have such admiration.

But your smile faded, and that worried him for a moment until you spoke: “I didn’t know that man was Hugo Strange,” you looked at him with regret. “If I had known, I would have caught him for you.”

“Would you?” He asked, doubting you really could.

“Well... I would have tried,” you defended yourself, shrugging your shoulders.

“Very brave. But it’s good you didn’t do anything,” he said playfully, stopping to think for a moment. “S/n, what did he tell you?”

He saw you wrinkle your nose in a grimace before answering. “I thought we met by chance. I was walking and saw a man smoking a cigarette on a corner. I was going to walk past, but then he asked if I needed help.”

“Which corner?”

“I don’t know, but it wasn’t far from home. I was trying to figure out the street on a map I found in the municipal library’s phone book,” you sighed, frustrated at not being able to give the information. “I ignored him, but he followed me. I got scared and started running, but he said he was a cop, so I trusted him.”

“Did he have a police car nearby?”

“He said he was undercover. But I don’t know what that means; I thought it was the same as being off duty.”

“It could mean that too.” Bruce saw your guilty expression, your lip trembling and your hands nervous.

“You don’t need to feel bad for believing him,” his larger hand enveloped both of yours like they were nothing. They were warm, and it was comforting. “I know Damian said horrible things, but he speaks in the heat of the moment.”

“They’re not in the heat of the moment... He never just speaks,” your voice dropped so low it was almost inaudible. Your eyes burned, but there were no tears. Crying for your brother would be the last thing you would do again. “What was in the box?”

“What box?” He was confused by your sudden change of subject.

“Didn’t Dick give it to you?” You asked, feeling his hand move away from yours and touch his left pocket. What Dick had given him was a card and not a box. Maybe he had taken what was inside. “I guess he forgot.”

“No. He didn’t forget,” he quickly responded, snapping out of a stupor. A curiosity grew in his chest, a need to know what was in that card.

Bruce fumbled in the pocket where the card still was and pulled it out. He quickly examined the paper, turning it over to check the back for anything. For a long time, his voice was muffled, and Bruce could only hear a buzzing in his ear. It was impossible for those words to have any real meaning. His breathing became loud and shaky, as if he were in the cold, and you were startled to see his eyes blinking frantically.

“Are you okay?” You moved to approach him, seeing moisture suddenly form on his forehead. It was cold sweat.

“How is this possible?” You heard him ask himself, bringing his fingertips to his eyes, rubbing them to make sure he was really seeing. That card had left him unsettled, you realized, and hesitantly, you tried to take it from his hands to remove it from him, but his grip tightened at the feel of your fingers, so tight that it completely crumpled the paper. “Sorry. It’s nothing,” he stammered, seeing that the abrupt movement had scared you.

He got up from the bed, completely oblivious to you or anything else now. He staggered before reaching the door, very disturbed and seeming out of it. Maybe it was you who did something wrong and didn’t realize it?

He didn’t seem fit to walk, so you quickly removed the covers from your legs and went to him, supporting and guiding him to the chair where he had left his coat. He was very heavy, but he was so disoriented that he went limp. He seemed so shaken that he didn’t protest and simply sat there. You stood in front of him for a few seconds, not knowing what else to do to help him.

“Shouldn’t I call someone?” You asked.

“Dick,” he mumbled without looking at you, and that worried. It seemed intentional, as if it was too difficult to face you.

“Where do I find him?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking of something, but Damian’s voice on the other side of the door caught his attention:

“S/n, open the door.” You stood still, recognizing your brother’s voice, until he continued: “Mom is here. She’s going to take you home,” he said as a warning, opening the door after a moment without even asking. “Come on. Why are you standing there like a statue?”

He was perplexed when you didn’t respond, and then he noticed his father sitting beside you in terror.

“Dad?” He approached, kneeling to assess the severity. He was having another episode. Lately, Bruce had only been getting worse every day and still refused to ask for help.

“What happened?” Your brother turned to you, but your face already showed that you had no idea.

Damian tried to place his hand on his shoulder, but Bruce pushed it away aggressively. Your father would never act like this just because of the argument they had before, much less give him a venomous look as he did now, but beneath it all, there was hurt. He had found out about you, somehow.

He should have felt bad about how the news seemed to have been revealed, but he was relieved not to have to lie anymore. At the same time, he regretted choosing to cater to his mother’s whims once again, deceiving his father this way. But the omission had grown so much over the years he spent in the mansion and, after so long, it didn’t matter when he told him, the damage was already done.

Bruce wasn’t in a perfect mental state. He wouldn’t react like this normally, and knowing that, the man felt pathetic in front of the two of you.

“He asked for Dick,” you said to Damian, giving him space to breathe by stepping back.

“Forget Dick,” Bruce replied firmly, surprising. In an instant, he had a fit, and as quickly as he entered this state, he left it. Now, he seemed furious. “Where is she?”

This was a ploy by Talia and Strange. They were planning this together to hit him, a way to weaken him. It could only be that. It was too much of a coincidence Strange had found you just that night; nothing made sense. When had he and Talia gotten involved again after that day that led to Damian? He couldn’t remember and wasn’t good at recalling such old things. Maybe that wasn't even true. It was as if there was a big blank page in his mind.

“Get out,” Talia’s silhouette appeared at the door where she was leaning. Like most times when referring to the children, her voice was imposing, leaving no room for contestation. “Both of you.”

“You were supposed to wait downstairs,” your brother tried to contradict her. Despite everything he did for your mother, unlike you, he was the only one who had the courage to face her.

Her frown deepened at Damian’s defiance, but her stern expression softened at your trembling voice: ‘Mom...’ She sighed and opened her arms to you, casting a challenging look at Bruce, who returned it with an even harsher one, while you clung to her smaller frame in a tight embrace.

She knelt to your level, her hands gently brushing your cheeks and hair, noting how frizzy and messy it was. ‘Look at you. Your hair is all disheveled.’ She ran a finger down to your lip, grimacing at the cut there.

‘I’m sorry.’ Although less anxious now that you knew she wasn’t angry, you still regretted disobeying her.

‘My sweet girl,’ she said in a soft, genuinely affectionate voice. She kissed your cheek, casting that same malicious glance at Bruce again, as if provoking him. He felt a wave of nausea seeing her use you as a pawn just to taunt him. ‘Let the adults talk,’ she ordered, standing up and regaining her authoritative tone.

‘I’m staying,’ Damian protested. Leaving his father alone with her in his vulnerable state was a mistake.

‘Go and stay with your sister, Damian,’ Bruce was as harsh as Talia, but unlike her, he was seething with anger.

The boy closed his eyes in frustration but gave in, knowing it was useless to argue. He glanced at you, who had already walked out of the room and into the hallway. Damian was about to follow, but his father’s voice stopped him again:

‘She’s not leaving the house, Damian,’ his firm tone carried the weight of undeniable authority, with bitterness seeping through. The coldness in his voice left no room for warmth; it was distant. Bruce had finally gotten the push he needed. The possibility of you being his daughter gave him a sense of entitlement, and it made Talia’s arrogant expression falter for a moment; she looked apprehensive. ‘Do you understand?’ It was a question directed at both his son and Talia.

‘Yes,’ the young man replied simply, avoiding eye contact with his mother as he left. Damian paused in front of the door before fully departing, and his mother slammed it shut in his face.

He resisted the urge to eavesdrop and turned to look for you in the hallway, but you had vanished.

‘I deserve this,’ he muttered impatiently. You were avoiding him, and Damian couldn’t help but feel irritated at how childish that was. But he was one of the villains here; he was the one who lied, insulted, and rejected you. Realizing this filled him with shame, and unlike the first time, he repeated the words, this time with a tone of regret: ‘Yes, I deserve this.’"

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